


Stay Back From the Edge

by enigmalea



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Blindfolds, Cock Rings, Dom!Cullen Rutherford, Edging, Established Sexual Relationship, Kink Negotiation (off-screen), M/M, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, POV Solas (Dragon Age), POV Third Person Limited, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Present Tense, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Self-indulgent smut, Shameless Smut, sub!solas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 10:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28469904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/pseuds/enigmalea
Summary: Solas and the Commander have an arrangement. Simple, efficient. This is one of the many times Solas takes advantage of it.NOTE:I normally share an excerpt of my works in the summary. I... really can't do that with this one. This is nearly all 100% pure smut, and anything I would decide to use as an excerpt would give away far too much.Please also note that I tried to make it clear that everything in the scene was pre-arranged and kink negotiation had been covered outside of the scene, and they certainly have established safewords, but nothing is explicitly expressed in the fic.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Solas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38
Collections: The Hanged Man Holiday Exchange 2020





	Stay Back From the Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FoxInBoots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxInBoots/gifts).



> Dear Fox,
> 
> Writing some smut for you can't even begin to express how lucky I feel to have you as a friend. This has been a labor of love, and I hope you enjoy every single minute of it. ❤
> 
> * * *
> 
> Thanks to [acrononymous](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/acrononymous) for the quick, short notice beta!
> 
> * * *
> 
>  **follow me for updates:** [ao3 (click subscribe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/profile) ☆ [tumblr](http://enigmalea.tumblr.com) ☆ [twitter](https://twitter.com/enigmaleaDA)  
>  **prompt me:** [how to](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/post/185117840754) ☆ [submit](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/ask) ☆ [read on tumblr](https://enigmalea.tumblr.com/tagged/my-drabbles) ☆ [read on ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/frillycakes)  
>   
>  **join me on discord:** [The Hanged Man](https://discord.gg/9RERC6R) (18+, DA fanfic server for writers, readers, and betas)

The fabric over his eyes is dark green and soft in a way that is both familiar and unexpected. It lets through just enough light he can see outlines of shadow and light. From the moment it is slipped into place, he feels the tension begin to unwind, uncurling from his belly outward; it is okay. He can give in, can release his responsibilities and think of nothing.

Even if he did not feel the gentle pressure of his lover's fingertips on his shoulders as he moved around him, Solas would not panic. He could still hear the soft movement of bare feet on stone, the gentle inhale and exhale of warm breath, which would let him know the Commander is still nearby. There is a tentative tug on the ropes binding his wrists, and Solas must struggle not to make a sound. It does not hurt - far from it - but it does serve to remind him how utterly helpless he is at this moment, causing a thrill of pleasure to surge through him. His heart thuds in his chest, echoing in his ears, anticipation rising.

But his Commander is not done with his inspections yet.

Strong fingers knead tendons, checking to make sure nothing is pulled too tight, stretched too far, that he is not in pain Cullen does not wish for him to be in. He is relatively sure Cullen is so steadfast in his ministrations because he does not want inquiries concerning any potential injuries; nevertheless, it eases him into a feeling of security, into feeling as if he is safe to truly let go.

He is aware of the larger man's body looming over his, the heat radiating over the bare skin of his back. The low growl in his ear causes him to shudder even though he isn't cold. "You look so very good like this," Cullen praises. The blush flushes his skin, from his upper chest to the tips of his ears; he wants to protest, but he can't work out the words for the objection, and even if he could, his Commander would not appreciate his defiance. "Up. To your knees."

The command pulls at something primal in him and he can't help but obey, rising from his relaxed sitting kneel to a full kneel, knees slightly apart on the pillow meant to protect them from the rough wooden floor. Staying in this position for any length of time would not be easy; this was meant to test his endurance in many ways... it also means their session would not last too terribly long.

It's perhaps a little insane that he somehow feels more naked than he did a moment before as he feels Cullen's eyes raking over him, takes in the quiet sounds of Cullen moving around him, the soft steady breathing that tells him the man is not far away. The large hand cradling his face from the front now sends a thrill through him; he cannot get enough of Cullen's hands on his body. Cullen's thumb traces over his bottom lip, soft and uncalloused, teasingly light. His lips part of their own volition, as if he's received an unspoken order, and the Commander presses the tip of the finger into his mouth.

His tongue darts out, teasing the sensitive pad of his thumb. Cullen's low chuckle fills the room as the fingers of his other hand trail down Solas' neck, tripping over his collarbone, lightly brushing over the swell of his chest. "My good boy is so very eager to please," he teases softly. Solas nearly chokes on the moan which forms in the back of his throat, unable to stop it from escaping as the thrill of Cullen's words and his touch surges down his spine and straight to his cock, already half-hard from anticipation.

Fingertips brush against his nipple, barely a sensation, but eyes flutter shut behind the blindfold as a gasp trips from his lips. He rocks into the touch without meaning to, body swaying forward of its own volition. He wants to beg for more, but he can't force himself to get the words out - and they would not do him any good now anyway.

"You are very nearly ready," Cullen murmurs absently. Both hands are gone far too soon, and he nearly whines at the sudden lack of touch. _Embarrassing._ How could he possibly be so needy already, he wonders as the warm blush creeps up from his chest to fill his face.

He is faintly aware of the Commander leaning away from him, of things being moved in the room. He licks his lips and tries to think about anything but the way his heart is thudding so heavily against his rib cage it feels like it might burst through.

A strong, firm hand lands on Solas right hip, soft, uncalloused fingertips press into the curve of his lower back, as a thumb brushes against his hip bone. He isn't sure but he thinks he might be trembling. And then a finger is drawn from the base of his hardening length to the tip, and he shudders, a moan falling from parted lips. His body is suddenly humming with pleasure.

The finger traces gently where the head of his cock strains against the foreskin, pushing it back as he fully fills. It's hot. And hard to breathe and he temporarily forgets his hands are bound as he tries to reach for the Commander to pull him closer. He shouldn't be surprised by it, but the feeling of Cullen's hands leaving him again is followed quickly by the feeling of a leather strap circling the base of his cock, winding around his balls, and being tied at the base. His dick throbs as the blood is trapped; he is more than fully hard, now, cock throbbing with each beat of his heart.

" _Almost_ ," Cullen whispers, and Solas has to stop himself from growling in frustration. _Almost?_ What more could there possibly be? What more could he have planned?

Large hands on either side of his rib cage nearly cause him to jump in surprise; the Commander is not that much taller than him, but he is broader, and his hands are bigger. There is something about feeling how far Cullen's fingers can reach on his upper back, even as his thumbs begin to circle his nipples, which sends a thrill through Solas, straight to his aching cock. His breath catches in the back of his throat on an inhale as Cullen's nail scratches across the hardened nub. Mixed pain-pleasure lights his nerves on fire and Solas lets the sensation wash over him, sinking into the place where the only things which matter are the things which are them: gasps for air, desperate needy sounds, fingertips trailing over skin, teeth sinking into flesh. With him now are the unintentional rocking of his body seeking more, the sensation of Cullen's eyes studying every twitch of every muscle, the way his own lips are parted, and warm, shallow breath is dancing across them.

He loses track of how long he is trapped there, letting waves of pleasure wash over his body; his skin tingles and he is trembling with sensual bliss, precum has gathered at the tip of his confined length, and he is unsure how much more of this anticipatory torture he can take. _Please_. The word sounds loud in his mind, but he can't quite make himself say it, to ask for more. Surely the Commander will not keep him there forever; surely, he will give him mo-

"Ah!"

The cry is drug from him without warning, accompanied by lightning behind his closed eyes, head thrown back, exposing his long neck. His nipples ache from the unexpected abrupt twists Cullen has given them, but he can't complain about it, can't get his brain to form the word that was just there. He'd become used to a certain level of pleasure, used to the idea every nerve was awakening, that his cock was hard but not demanding attention, that he could breathe. Now everything is on fire, and his cock is throbbing, the tip is slick, and he can't seem to catch his breath.

"Perfect," Cullen comments, and Solas' eyes snap open and he tries to force his body to cooperate so that he can look at Cullen. He'd forgotten about the blindfold, and he lets out a soft grunt of frustration. Perfect how? How was that perfect? What did the Commander have planned for him? He licks his lips, straining to make out what the noise is that he hears, but he can't quite do it. Cullen shifts, he can feel the man almost imperceptibly closer.

Pain-pleasure erupts through his body again, a tidal wave moving from his nipples to his core; his body caves in on itself as he tries to escape it, but it moves with him, a gentle pull of weight causing another wave. His balls squeeze, cock throbbing, each pulse causing another drop of precum to leak from the glistening head. "Hnnnn… Hnnnn… hnnnn." He's suddenly aware of the sound that is leaving him, part-moan, part-whimper, rhythmic and somehow soothing.

"Easy." Cullen's voice breaks through, and Solas isn't sure how long he's been talking to him and he hasn't been responding. Cullen's strong hand is on shoulder, helping support him, and Solas can't remember how long it's been there. "Are the clamps too much?

 _Clamps_. That explains the subtle tug on his nipples with every panicked breath he takes, the gentle pressure which has increased the constant level of pain-pleasure assailing his system, added to the noise, which is muddling his brain, and pushing him toward higher levels of ecstasy.

"Solas?"

He had shaken his head, hadn't he? He can't remember already; it's too difficult to concentrate with this much happening to him. He licks his lips, tries to remember how to force them to work, to coerce his tongue into making the right shapes. "N-no." His voice is breathless and rough from the sound he'd been making; he hadn't noticed it before, but his throat was sore.

"Good boy," Cullen praises, and Solas feels a thrill shoot down his spine. "Then up," he murmurs.

Up? He _is_ up. Isn't he? He must force himself to focus on his body to notice the way he is leaning forward slightly, hips pushed back slightly instead of directly over his knees. He must force himself to move, to straighten so that he is kneeling correctly. Now that his attention has been called back to his body, Solas is aware of how much he's doing without intending to; he forces himself to unclench his hands and jaw, to fight against the urge to breathe shallowly, more difficult to do than it sounded given that every breath causes the weight of the clamps to shift, sending sparks of mixed pain-pleasure through his body. He is aware he is coated in a light sheen of sweat, but there is nothing he can do about that.

Cullen's hand slides from his shoulder, fingertips smoothing over slick skin following the curves of his chest and abs. The hands disappear again and Solas whines this time; he can't stop the desperate sound from leaving him no matter how hard he tries.

The Commander doesn't keep him waiting long.

A familiar soft scrape of oil being uncapped and the Commander slicking his hand liberally makes its way to Solas' ears, echoes in his oversaturated brain. His breath catches in anticipation and he tries to slow his beating heart, but he fails when the light coming through the blindfold changes, and he becomes aware of how Cullen's body has moved to his side. The gentle pressure of Cullen's hand surrounding him at his head steals his breath away; he was unprepared for the intense feeling of Cullen's generously lubricated hand sliding down his length, the sensation mimicking the feel of him sinking into a lover's warmth.

He can breathe again as the hand reaches the base of his impossibly hard dick and he lets out a long, deep, needy moan. The Commander sets an unforgiving pace, each stroke moving from the base, pressing against the cock ring, all the way to the head, pushing his foreskin back before moving it back over the swollen, sensitive head, layering a wave of bliss atop the pain-pleasure which has already found its way to his body driven by the pressure on the hardened nubs of his nipples. It's hard to breathe and it's too hot and his knees hurt, but Solas isn't thinking of any of that, all he can concentrate on is the buzzing in his nerves, the way waves of pleasure are crashing insistently into him, how his muscles are tensing, and his balls are pulling up and-

"Close." The whispered warning barely escapes him, and it certainly isn't a conscious decision; the word is driven from him by habit, by the fact he and the Commander have done this before, and he knows what is expected of him. Cullen's hand leaves him, and Solas lets out a strangled sound of protest.

"You did very well," Cullen praises gently, and Solas is ashamed how the sound of the Commander's voice combined with those words is enough to cause his cock to jump eagerly. His thighs are starting to tremble from how long he has been kneeling and the earlier, fleeting thought that his knees are hurting settles into his brain as his muscles relax and he comes back down from the edge. "Again," Cullen whispers a warning.

No warning is needed; he can hear Cullen applying more oil to his hand and he lets out an anticipatory groan. The Commander doesn't keep him waiting; fingertips find his overly sensitive head, swollen and leaking, and Solas can't stop himself from jerking away from the intense pain-pleasure which shoots down his spine. The sudden jerk causes the clamps to tug and there are fireworks going off behind his eyes; his dick is steadily leaking. Fingers catch at the ridge of his head, slipping over his sensitive glans; electric fire surges through his body, and whining moans are torn from the back of his throat to echo in the room.

"Hnnnn… hnnnn…. hnnnn." He doesn't know what sounds are leaving him, doesn't recognize his own voice; though he vaguely knows it's his, he can't seem to control it. His muscles pull taut, body arching toward the touch. The weight of the nipple clamps shifts again and there's more lightning, more pain, and Solas can no longer feel an end to the perverse pleasure it drives; there are no more waves, waxing and waning, only intense, continuous rapture, melting his brain, sending white hot fire through his veins, turning his core to molten lava.

The hand circles him completely, sliding down his oil and precum slicked shaft, before moving back up to twist around his head. "Ah!" Solas screams as his balls squeeze tight, and the hand is gone. He'd nearly fallen over the edge, nearly broken the rules already, and he's panting and whimpering and trying to regain control, but his body is betraying him. "P-please," he whimpers. He needs more. _Needs_ it. Just a stroke or two and it would be over.

"Not yet," Cullen replies from behind him, and Solas jumps. He was so overwhelmed he hadn't been aware Cullen had moved, hadn't felt his warm breath at his ear.

"Ahhhh," he tries to protest, but he can only make a pitiful sound.

"I think you have another one… maybe two in you… don't you, my good boy?" The Commander whispers heatedly into his ear, and suddenly Solas feels like he could do anything the other man asked of him, even though his balls are swollen and pulled up close to his body, and his cock is hard as stone, and precum is leaking from it in thick, clear streams. He is making a mess, and he can feel it sliding down his shaft, dripping down his thighs, over his balls, and toward the hardwood floor.

He wants to protest, to tell Cullen he definitely does not have more in him, but he cannot deny him, not yet. He hasn't been pushed so far as to need his safeword, and one more denied orgasm would not cause him to use it. "Y-yes," he manages to answer, though his voice trembles nearly as much as his body is shuddering.

"Good," Cullen comments. His hard body is pressed against Solas, trapping his arms, and Solas moans softly. He had not been expecting to feel Cullen pressed against him, warm skin and hard muscles against his back and arms, hard cock pushed between the round globes of his ass; it lights another ache in him, a need to feel Cullen buried inside him. The ache isn't eased by the way Cullen wraps an arm tightly around Solas' chest, pulling him close and trapping him there. He feels so small here, helpless - a shudder runs through him.

Cullen's hand dives between his legs, squeezing his overfilled balls, and Solas sinks back against his body, pliant and submissive, head lolling back to rest against the Commander's shoulder. The hand massaging his balls does not ease their ache, it only succeeds in drawing low moans from him, in pushing the plateau of his pleasure ever higher. He can't stop himself from nuzzling against Cullen's cheek, delighting in the scrape of rough stubble against his smooth skin as the man's strong hand wraps around him. A gasp is forced from his lungs and he can't get air back into them, not with the way Cullen's hand is sliding over him, drawing his foreskin over the overly sensitive head. A never-ending moan, rumbling deep in his chest fills the otherwise quiet room as his eyes roll back into his head.

The heat is unbearable; his skin is soaked with sweat, and his head is spinning from lack of oxygen. Cullen's hand twists as it moves up and down his length, pushing him closer and closer to the edge of release. His body pulls taut, lower back and thighs, and abs tightening as he arches toward Cullen's hand. The Commander must feel how close he is, how his balls are pulling up tight, as he nips at Solas' ear. "So close, but not yet," he growls, hand shifting slightly on Solas' chest.

Fingertips tug at the clamp on his nipple and Solas screams, fireworks exploding behind eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Everything is pulled so tight it hurts, balls high and full as he fights to hold back. _Not yet_. The growl echoes in his head and he trembles effort of holding back; every stroke of the Commander's hand pushes ecstasy toward torment. He claws at his own palms, aching to find purchase somewhere, to cling to Cullen as he falls into his orgasm. His voice cracks, tears gather in his eyes, soaking the blindfold. "PLEASE!" he cries hoarsely.

The hand stops moving, and he lets out a desperate sob. _Halam._ His safeword rings in his head but sits heavy on his tongue. So close. He is so awfully close. He's not sure he can take any more. Cullen has pushed him too far: his knees hurt; he aches all over, every muscle is trembling uncontrollably. His body is like molded clay, pliant and soft, cracking from too much heat; his cock is swollen and painful, too hard, and radiating the heat which has flooded his body. Another soft sob escapes him as he collapses against the Commander's muscular body, panting softly. "Please," he manages to whisper weakly, lips brushing against the stubble of his jawline. Even that simple sensation is very nearly too much, nearly sends him over the edge.

"You've been so very good," Cullen whispers heatedly, voice rumbling in his ear, and Solas squirms in the Commander's large arms, unable to hold still any longer. "You can let go this time."

Solas whimpers, unable to piece together words of thanks, but the Commander doesn't give him a chance to say anything before the hand is around his dick again. A single stroke from the base to the tip stokes the fire that has been burning for too long, ravaging Solas' control, and he arches up into the touch, hips snapping forward to meet downward movement that follows. His nails dig into the flesh of his palms, nearly drawing blood. The first clamp releases from his nipple and Solas' eyes roll into the back of his head, drawing a scream from him as the pain spikes but does not ebb. He cannot breathe, cannot do anything but chase _more_.

His body has tightened to the point it feels like it will snap; every muscle is as hard as stone, pulled tight as his cock leaks precum profusely.. Cullen's hand moves without friction, sliding slickly over his skin as his hips move frantically. The other clamp releases, and his hips jerk roughly forward; he is close, so close. He's never felt such pleasure, never been trapped like this on the edge, unable to control his body, brain riding high, powerless as jolts of pleasure cause his skin to tingle and burn with lightning travelling the length of his spine. "So good for me," the Commander practically purrs into his ear, "let go… you can do it… no need to hold back anymore."

Cullen's hand jerks roughly along his length, his thumb brushing against the overly sensitive glans of his head. He snaps. Supernovas explode behind his eyes, his balls begin to pulse, every muscle shaking apart as he screams his rapture. He has no idea how long he spills, sticky seed pouring forth to coat his cock and Cullen's hand, how long he screams and shakes and falls apart in the larger man's arms, but when it's finally over, he collapses against Cullen’s body, fully spent, limbs weak, panting for breath, and sinks into post-orgasmic bliss.

* * *

Solas floats for a long time, hardly cognizant of anything but his own rhythmic breathing. Some vague part of him is aware of Cullen removing the cock ring, cleaning him up, moving him to bed, and finding his own release, but it doesn't make sense, doesn't sink in as something which is actually occurring. He has to claw his way back to consciousness, and when he does, he's surprised to open his eyes to find Cullen, sitting in a chair, watching him.

His mouth is dry, his throat is raw, and he blinks through blurry vision to watch the larger man closely. "How long?" he whispers.

Cullen glances at the candle where it burns. "You've been out a half hour at most," Cullen replies quietly. Solas pushes himself half up, though every muscle protests the movement, and he winces in pain. They had been clear with their arrangement: discretion was key, and neither of them were to stay the night. It was sex… nothing more. But right now, Solas isn't sure he can piece himself together to make it down to his rooms - traversing the ladder alone was perilous and-

His thoughts are interrupted by the gentle press of a flask to his lips, and he eagerly lets the other man help him drink; the cool water parches his thirst but hurts his throat and he winces in pain. He clears his throat as Cullen takes the flask back. Watching the man take a drink for himself feels strangely intimate, which is foolish given what had just happened. Still, is this who they are? Do they have the sort of intimacy to share water vessels? "Just a moment and I'll be on my way," Solas begins.

"Stay." It is an order. Soft. Tentative. Not much of an order at all, then. A plea? Cullen's hand moves to the back of his neck, rubbing at it tentatively. Even with the backlight of the fire in the fireplace, and the dim light of the candle, he can see the Commander's quickly pinking cheeks. "You can stay… if you want, this once."

He should not. They should not. For more reasons than Cullen can imagine, he should not be doing this. And yet, he slid back slowly from the edge of the bed, throwing off the blanket so that Cullen could easily slip under with him. Why? Why would he do this? "Just this once," he agrees.


End file.
